Charlotte had always told the oldest two Bennet sisters she was not a romantic, yet she had made a love match. They married in May of ’07, and Charlotte had just felt the quickening of their first child. She and her husband were very comfortable in the Longbourn church’s parsonage.
Mr. Dudley retired in June of that year, and after the good work Collins had done in the parish, coupled with the fact he was liked by the parishioners, and was given a glowing recommendation by the retiring clergyman, Bennet awarded the living to his distant cousin and never repined doing so.
At first, Collins had been wonderstruck by his titled cousins after their elevation in London. In addition to Bennet being named baron, and thanks to the recent weddings, he counted a number of peers, a viscount and viscountess, and a royal princess among his relations. Luckily, he did not have sycophantic tendencies, so as soon as he saw his family did not expect any special deference, Collins was able to relate to all in a way that never gave offence. Charlotte was happy to be related to the Bennets, cementing their friendship of many years, and continuing to enjoy her visits with Eliza.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The double wedding held at Snowhaven, the Fitzwilliam estate, had been an event everyone enjoyed. Richard and Cassie were given the use of Seaview cottage for their wedding trip, and Jamey and Anne travelled north to a small estate owned by the Carringtons, a little southeast of Dumfries in Scotland. The estate of Caerlaverock Heightsboasted a triangular castle with a moat that had been built in the thirteenth century.
The former couple spent a month near Brighton, while the latter couple spent three weeks in Scotland. After their wedding trip, Richard and Cassie moved into Brookfield Meadows, where they had remained until joining the family in London for the little season of ’07. Jamey and Anne took up residence at Rosings Park. Jamey’s estate, Amberleigh, was smaller than his wife’s; because they hoped to have visitors often, it was an easy choice to spend more of the year at Rosings Park than at Amberleigh.
Cassie believed she was with child, as she had just missed her third cycle of courses. Her new sister Anne had not missed any courses yet, which saddened her. Cassie had not mentioned anything to Richard—yet, but he—attuned to his wife’s health—had a very good idea that she was with child. He respected her silence and the cause of it and would not mention it until Cassie spoke to him first. He understood she was waiting for the quickening. Thankfully, she had no significant illness in the mornings—so far.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Catherine de Bourgh would have been happy to return to her cottage in Hunsford after Anne’s wedding, but Anne would not hear of it. She invited her mother to live with them. While Anne and Jamey had been enjoying their wedding trip, Catherine returned to her cottage and was most pleased with the way Mrs. Jenkinson had managed everything; she had even expanded the learning programmes begun by Catherine.
Once Catherine had gained access to all her funds, she had made plans to build a school in Hunsford to accommodate many more children—and offer subjects for adults in the evenings—as the converted cottage was too small to accommodate her long-term hopes.
Once other family members heard of her plan, more than enough money had been donated. The Prince adding ten thousand pounds of his own funds, so in addition to the school, a clinic was built, and money reserved to employ a doctor and an apothecary who would offer their services free to those in the area.
Once Lady Metcalf—who had cut Catherine over three years previously—realised her erstwhile friend was welcomed back into the bosom of her family and by royalty as well, she attempted to rekindle their friendship. Catherine had no time in her life for false friends, and rather than cutting the woman as had been done to her, she told her such politely to her face.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Elizabeth had cheerfully borne all of the ‘Your Royal Highness’ greetings she had received when they returned to Meryton from London. Luckily, the novelty wore off quickly. Other than when Tommy, eleven, tried to annoy her or when she was addressed by those not acquainted with the family, she was Miss Elizabeth, Elizabeth, or Lizzy, to all who knew her. The exception was Charlotte Collins and the Lucas clan, who called her Eliza.
Since the public announcement concerning Princess Elizabeth, the friendship and feelings between her and William had deepened considerably. Only a fool who saw them together could not see that the two were irrevocably in love.
As she sat with her book in Netherfield’s library, Elizabeth smiled as she recalled the conversation she had been a party to between her birthfather and Uncle Robert a month previously. William was not aware yet, as his father decided his son would be told the news when and if—as if it were a question—he requested a formal courtship with Elizabeth.
The family was at Pemberley to celebrate Christmastide. All of the extended family was present except for Jane and Andrew, as Jane had delivered a baby boy not eight weeks previously. Both Elizabeth’s mother and Aunt Elaine were present for the birth of Andrew Thomas Fitzwilliam Junior in late October and remained with Jane for over a month.
Elizabeth had been playing chess with Uncle Robert. She was not quite at his level yet, but she did win—without him giving her quarter—occasionally. Her birthfather sat down with them, while the rest of the family was enjoying a sleigh ride. As Elizabeth had a slight cold, Mr. Taylor had recommended she keep warm and out of the snow.
“My parents are aware of William’s ardent interest in their granddaughter,” the Prince had stated.
“Will they approve of William, Father?” Elizabeth had asked worriedly.
“They will under one condition,” the Prince stated as he gave Uncle Robert a conspiratorial look.
“I will not be able to refuse the King this time, will I?” Uncle Robert stated with amused resignation.
“Of what do you two talk, if I may know?” Elizabeth asked inquisitively.
“In order to marry a royal prince or princess, one must be a marquess or, in a lady’s case, a marchioness or higher,” the Prince had explained to his daughter.
“In my father’s time, the Darcys were offered the vacant dukedom of Derbyshire,” Uncle Robert explained. “My late father respectfully refused the title, as did I—twice.”
“Why did you refuse it, Uncle Robert?” Elizabeth followed up.
“We felt we did not need it, we—my father and I—were happy to be gentlemen farmers without being a member of the peerage and having to spend time in the House of Lords,” Uncle Robert had clarified.
“But now, Darcy here will not refuse it again, so that if you and William decide it is what you want, he will be allowed to court you officially—and become betrothed, if the courtship reaches its natural conclusion,” her birthfather stated with a smirk. Uncle Robert had said not a word to refute the statement.
Elizabeth smiled, not because of the way the Darcys would be forced to accept a dukedom they had previously refused—multiple times—but the demonstration of a father’s love for his son that he would accept the title to ensure William’s—and by extension her own—happiness.
On the way home from Pemberley, the family spent a few days at Hilldale, where all of little Andy’s Bennet aunts, and lone uncle, had made his acquaintance. Mary, who would be sixteen in a matter of days, could not get enough of Andy. All of them loved their nephew, but for some unknown reason, Mary more so than the rest.
